One morning, a friend of mine set the breakfast table beside a huge window, which overlooked the Tred Avon River. Suddenly she leaned forward and cried out, “ There is a goose out there!”

We saw the figure of a large Canada goose, very still, its wings folded tight to its sides and its feet frozen to the ice.

Then in the sky, she saw a line of swans. They flew from the top of the sky downward and at last landed on the ice. My friend was on her feet, with one unbelieving hand against her mouth. As the swans surrounded the frozen goose, she feared that the poor goose might be pecked out by those great swan bills.

Unexpectedly, those bills began to work on the ice. The long necks were lifted and curved down again and again. They went on for a long time. At last, the goose was free and standing on the ice. And the swans stood nearby watching. Then, as if the goose was crying, “I cannot fly”, four of the swans came down around it. Their powerful bills chipped off the ice stuck in its feathe